So I am back with another load of craziness, this time its Dean feeling under the weather, but Sam has to cope. I started writing this for a challenge but lost my muse and ran out of time. This afternoon i saw it and i had to finish it because i hate half finished stories. It's weird, it's crazy, it's insane. And why did i name it what i did... i don't know. Hmm
Disclaimer: I want them so, so bad. But Supernatural doesnt belong to me, neither do Spiderman and Oscar the Grouch sigh
Buckets of Fun
If there was anything at all that could convince Sam that Dean had been knocked silly during their last hunt, this was it.
Sam was driving, and he was fighting an internal battle with himself on whether or not Dean was out of it enough that he wouldn't notice Sam caressing the steering wheel… not that Sam would be doing that. He drove the Impala lots and therefore felt no compulsion to stoke the smooth dash as the car purred along, under his command, none what so ever…
He snuck a glance at his brother; he was having a rather heated discussion with his reflection, something to do with the effectiveness of a chap stick verses Lip-gloss.
Dean had become quite agitated and he pulled open the glove box to sort through it. He withdrew his hand and held it high clutching the small stick of lip balm like it was some sort of prize.
"See," he was telling himself. "Gloss just makes your lips shiny, they do nothing if its moisture you want. Here," he unscrewed the lid to apply the balm to his own lips before turning to his reflection.
He smeared it over the window, squirming in his seat because his reflected self just wouldn't stay still.
Finally he stilled, his head tilted in some sort of silent query.
"And that's why I'm the big brother." He stated finally. "To make all the important decisions and make sure your lips stay moist."
Sam rolled his eyes from his seat. Please God, he pleaded. Let us find a place for us to stop soon! Then he snuck a hand out and ran it along the top of the steering wheel, grinning.
Dean continued to mutter quietly as the empty landscape slowly filled with random farms, then houses and soon they were surrounded by shops and businesses and other vehicles.
Dean chose this moment to remember his little brother.
"Sammy, we're hungry. Can we stop soon?" He turned as gave Sam an imploring look.
Sam wasn't keen for Dean to go out in public in his state but the eyes! The window was doing it too. He was surrounded, and so unused to his brother actually making puppy dog eyes, they were just everywhere. He had to look away to speak. "Yeah, ok."
He pulled in to the first car park and by chance he found that it was a mall with a food court.
Dean was up and out of the car before Sam had pulled the handbrake. Sam watched his brother weave through the parked cars as he locked the doors, that's when it dawned on him that malls meant people, lots of people, and shops.
He cursed and ran after his brother, losing sight of him at one moment and then spotting him after a moment of panic.
Sam nearly ran into Dean when he finally caught up. Dean was looking about, searching for something.
"What are you looking for Dean?" Sam looked around too.
"He's gone," Dean was mumbling. "He was just here."
"Who Dean?" Sam could feel a headache coming along. He pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to ward it off.
"The handsome man!" Dean stressed the words. Worry lines etched his face and his eyes darted frantically. "Over there!" He pointed wildly over to the left and rushed over to a mirror standing next to a rack of wigs. For a moment Sam thought Dean was going to hug his reflection, he didn't. Instead he put on a wig, a bright red wig with long curly ringlets. Dean tossed the curls over his shoulder and looked in the mirror, his reflection followed, even taking the own stance.
Dean pouted once he noticed this. "No," he told his reflection. "I found it first, you have to find another one." He cocked his head, listening. "Yeah, well I'm buying it, so you can't have it". He raced to the cash register and impatiently waited for the man behind to notice him. Subtly he coughed. Then he smirked and looked over his shoulder at Sam who was shaking his head. Dean thought he looked jealous, jealous that Dean got the wig.
Sam wasn't jealous… he was extremely embarrassed. Right there on the spot he was considering disowning his brother, maybe he could walk away and deny ever knowing Dean. Unfortunately, he knew Dean had a head injury and worry made him stay. He needed to get Dean to a motel for rest… or a doctor.
Dean ran past Sam, a fast blur that Sam had to chase after. Again he thought about leaving, until he saw Dean pause and sway.
"Dean? Dean! Stay with me man. You okay?" He took hold of Dean's shoulders and forced his older brother to face him.
"I'm fine, Sam," Dean shrugged him off. "Sammy, ha, Sammy-boy" Dean was laughing hysterically and drawing attention to him and Sam, standing in the middle of the mall. Sam grabbed Dean's hand and physically dragged him away.
Out past the shops towards the large double door that led to freedom. A few more shops to pass, a few more steps, they were nearly there. He felt a tugging at his arm and suddenly his hand was empty. Dean had escaped again.
"I swear, I'm gunna-" Sam's dark muttering was disrupted by a loud complaint of "But I want it!" the source, Dean, of course. Sam sighed and wandered into the toy store, the shop Dean's voice had come from.
Dean was clutching at an armful of toys and he was arguing… Sam groaned. The damn shop had a mirror. It was a small one attached to a stand covered in bright, multicoloured sunglasses. Sunglasses meant for children.
Dean had a pair balanced precariously on his head. They were a light metallic green, almost the same colour as the plush Oscar the Grouch toy he clung to, along with the Spiderman action figure and the toy train.
Sam had to get Dean out of there fast. Already customers were milling around watching the groan man argue with his reflection over what toys he could and could not buy.
"Come on Dean, time to go." Sam tried to grab Dean's arm again, but he got pushed away.
"No Sam, I have to buy these."
If Sam hadn't known about Dean's knock to the head, he'd have been dumbfounded by the serious tone and its accompanying expression. He might have laughed as well, who was he kidding, he would have been rolling on the floor with tears in his eyes, fits of laugher shaking his body, leaving him breathless.
He looked questioningly over at the shopkeeper. "Can you scan these, quickly?" He turned to his brother and yanked the toys from his arms. Dean's eyes went hard and he glared at his younger brother, but that glare softened as the toys were quickly handed back to him.
Sam slapped some notes on the bench in front of the confused shopkeeper. "Keep the change," he said softly as he turned back to his brother. He got Dean outside and dragged him all the way to the Impala. He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for Dean.
"Thanks Sammy, you're the best."
Sam didn't even bother to correct him. He watched Dean carefully into the car. Halfway in his brother blinked and his eyes cleared. He looked around confused at the car park and then at the toys in his hands.
"What the hell?" he asked. He looked up at Sam and his eyes rolled back into his head.
Dean's first conscious thought was that there was something squishing his head. It was locked in some vice-like contraption that was being squeezed tighter and tighter. The strange pressure radiated from a point on the back of his head and when he lifted his hands and pressed that point pain spiked through him, a million bolts of lightning striking simultaneously and shooting electricity all the way down to his feet.
He dropped his hands back down to the bed, but they didn't make it. They got tangled in some strange messy, ropey thing that was resting on top of his head.
"Argh!" Dean let out a strangled cry and attempted to throw it, but it didn't let go! It was tangled with his arms, a giant red mass of fur. Was it trying to eat him?
"Sam?" he called. "Sam? Little help here."
Sam came running into the room; upon sighting Dean he stopped and started laughing. Sam bent over double, not even trying to stem the flow of laughter that erupted from him.
Finally he stopped and straightened. He wiped the tears from his eyes and took hold of the read furry thing and yanked it. It came free from Dean's arms leaving a few red wisps. Sam held it up for Dean to see.
"Sammy… why did you buy me that horrible wig?" Dean then noticed the toys scattered over his bed.
"Sammy… why did you buy me toys?" His eyes widened as snatches of memory returned to him. "I didn't, did I?" He let his voice fade.
Sam grinned, "Oh you did, I saw it, and so did everyone else in the mall."
Dean groaned, his head ached, "God no, how long was I out?"
"Two hours maybe, after you… came to your senses in the car park." Sam really seemed to be enjoying himself. He sat at the end of the bed Dean was lying in. "Though couldn't you have waited an extra half and hour? I had to lug you heavy ass inside."
Dean gave one of his smirks, "Well I can't just make these things easy for you. I gotta make you work or I'd be the only one who ever got things done".
"Oh," Sam replied. "Speaking of 'getting things done', you might want to wash your car."
Dean's grin vanished and his voice took on a worried tone, "What's wrong with my car?" he asked.
"Well, you see," Sam began, "you're reflection just wouldn't believe you when you told it about the miraculous moisture properties in a chap stick. So you had to prove it, because the windows lips were so very dry!"
Dean's expression showed his horror and he leapt from the bed, sending Sam and toys sprawling. "I didn't," he muttered racing for the door. He pulled it open and ran out to his car.
Sam picked himself off the floor and sat, waiting for his brother's reaction.
"Son of a…"
I hope you are all still relatively sane after that... anyways, thanks for reading and if you enjoyed it you know what to do... -eager puppy dog eyes- clickity click on the purple button!